Out of Mirkwood
Scribbles-on-Parchment
November 30, 2019
Chapter 21 – Take Courage
Legolas's foot hit a rock hidden, nestled somewhere in the tall grass. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees unable to keep his balance.
What was happening to him? He never tripped. Had the grace of the eldar suddenly deserted him?
His body felt weak and his mind was confused. The only thing he found he could focus clearly on was getting to Êmand. If he could find the Silvan elf then he would be safe. His mentor would know what to do; he always did.
The young prince looked around. Why was it so bright? He found his mind suddenly wandering to the shaded and cool forest of the Greenwood. He longed to hear the comforting whispers of the trees and the sound of wind in leaves.
The Sinda shook his head. He could think about this later, right now he just needed to get away.
From what? Legolas frowned, what am I running from?
This brought an instant and crippling fear into his heart. Why could he suddenly not remember anything? Was he going insane? Panic gripping him, Legolas tried to struggle to his feet, yet his leg seemed to have forgotten how to work. It was hopeless.
The elfling closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him. This was not right. He was a prince of the Greenwood. Since when had he ever wanted to accept defeat? These were not his thoughts. Something was corrupting his mind.
However, the young Sinda did not have the time to consider this revelation any longer for an instant and blinding pain suddenly surged through his skull. All thoughts and memories fled his mind, replaced instead by crippling agony.
Legolas let out a cry and grabbed his head. It felt as if his brain were swelling, pushing on his skull, trying to escape from the torture it was in. The pain invaded every fiber of his body, commanding it. The next few seconds felt as though they stretched on for an eternity.
The prince did not even register his body give out causing him to fall to his side, eyes falling tightly closed. He was not aware of his body twitching in agonized spasms.
The pain was consuming him.
A single tear slipped past the long, dark, lashes and down his pale cheek. It glinted silver in the sunlight before dropping into the dirt below, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake.
The tall grass brushed against the elfling's face and neck as if trying to bring some comfort to the fallen eldar, however, Legolas did not heed it. He remained trapped in the seemingly endless onslaught of pain and darkness that had invaded his very being.
Estel yanked his sword out of the orch who had followed him on his quest to get to Mear. He frowned slightly as the gravely wounded creature fell to the ground, dark blood spilling from a deep slash to its chest, coating everything around it with the black liquid.
The young human looked back at the fight; he desperately hoped that his ada or brothers would see him and come to his aid. If this strange ellon who had shot at Maer, attacked him he knew he would undoubtedly lose. He had trained with Elladan and Elrohir too many times to be illusioned into thinking he could beat any elf in battle. He had never won against one of the eldar in training so there was no way that he would win against one in a real battle.
However, these wishful thoughts faded away as all he could see were the mass of yrch bodies. No ellyn could be found. He was alone.
Estel felt dead begin to rise in his heart as he turned back to look for Maer. If the other eldar decided to fire upon him as well then he would be dead in an instant. Eves never missed a shot twice.
But instead of an arrow to his chest, the dean was surprised to see Maer on his knees in the grass several paces away. Fear instantly clutched Estel's heart. Had the elfling been shot?
He glanced back up the hill and felt his blood run cold to see that the ellon was now striding down towards them. A long silver sword was in his hand, the sharp metal of the blade glinting ominously in the sunlight.
For a moment Estel fought the urge to just leave Maer to fend for himself and save his own skin. The young elf had attacked him after all. Yet in his heart he knew he could never do that. The young ellon was alone and defenseless and needed him.
Hearing a pained cry, the young man's eyes snapped back to the ill eldar. The elf was still on his knees in the long grass, though now he was holding his head as if in severe pain. The human's bow wrinkled with worry. What was happening now? He started toward Maer only to witness him collapse onto his side as his body went limp.
With a shout, Estel ran over to the elfling's side. Perhaps Maer had been stabbed by an orch. He put a hand on eldar's arm and felt the muscles underneath twitching in pain-filled spasms which caused the edan to quickly pull away. It was the poison. The antidote had not worked.
"Maer, avaro naeth. I am here."
There was no movement from the eldar.
The man put his hand softly onto the elfling's golden locks trying to offer him some comfort and gently pulled back the pieces of soft hair that had fallen in front of Maer's face.
It was then that he saw the wet mark that ran down the ellon's cheek and the silver tear clinging to the pale skin. As he watched, it fell silently into the dirt.
In an instant, the anger in his heart towards Maer was turned towards those who had caused this much pain to such a young and innocent being. Estel jerked his head up, his steely grey eyes resting on the calm elf walking steadily towards them. Surely this ellon must have been the one who has caused this.
Scrambling to his feet, the edan gripped his blade and stood over the young elfling.
This is what I should have done in the first place. Never again shall I leave him defenseless and alone.
Blade in hand, Estel readied himself. This was going to be the hardest fight of his entire life and one he would likely not win. At least if he were to die, he would be able to do so with a clear conscience.
Hethion was slightly surprised as he saw Legolas cry out and fall to his side. This confirmed his theory. The ellyn who had found the young prince had not given him enough antivenom if any. The toxin was attacking the elfling's brain, causing unimaginable pain. If this continued, then he would be dead by morning. Yet they did not appear to know this. Or did they not realize the effects of the poison on one so young? Left to prolong so long, the outcome was always fatal.
They were making his job so easy to accomplish. The young prince would be completely subdued, and they had sent their weakest companion to protect him. No human could beat an elf in a fight.
The Silvan grinned as he thought of the pain he could inflict upon the naive edan. He should have been given a harder task, something to challenge his skills.
The ellon's progress towards the two figures slowed slightly as he saw the man kneel beside Legolas, placing a hand gently onto his head. The prince had made friends with a human? What would Thranduil think of this? No doubt he would be greatly disappointed in his son; as he should be.
Hethion shook his head. It mattered not to him who the elfling managed to win over. He would be dead by the next sunrise. If not by his hand, then the poison would take him. He was helping the prince really; he would be sparing Legolas from a much slower and more painful death.
The Silvan smiled to himself as the human looked at him, eyes narrowed in anger. The man's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword before he got slowly to his feet and stood over the young Sinda, yet Hethion could detect the faint tremor in the blade. The human was nervous, and rightly so. He was a fool to believe that he could ever win.
Hethion relished the fear in the mortal's grey eyes as he got closer. He had not even begun to attack, and the fight was already won. Losing control of one's fear was the quickest way to lose any fight. As Hethion neared the man, he slowed his pace, calculating his next move. Should he play on the human's fears for a while or just kill him quickly?
"Daro! You will not take him."
The man spat the words out, leveling his sword at Hethion. The Silvan paused, a soft smile playing at his lips.
"I do not intend on taking him," Hethion paused to let his words sink in, "I intend to kill him; I will do it even if it requires killing you first to do so."
Tamír brought his blade around to block the incoming strike from an orch. He shoved the beast back causing it lose balance. As he had expected, the creature flung its arms out to steady itself giving the ellon the opportunity to deal a fatal blow. The orch slumped to the ground eyes wide and vacant; dead before it even hit the dirt.
The Silvan looked around him, expecting another attack to come at any second, yet the only yrch around him were the ones that lay dead at his feet. Elrond and the twins were still locked in battle with several of the evil beings, however, it was obvious that the battle would soon be over.
Now, where was Estel? Where had the man gotten to?
He had heard the human cry out not long ago and run towards something. To save Maer? Tamír desperately hoped this was the case. With no one to protect him, the young Sinda would be dead by now.
A flash of sunlight off metal caught Tamír's eye as he looked over the dead bodies. That was when he saw Estel. The man was standing over a collapsed figure sword in hand; in front of him stood an elf.
Tamír took a double-take. Where had an eldar come from?
Both figures stood tense and the young edan appeared to be talking to the ellon. Tamír took a step towards them. As he did this, the strange elf looked over at him and caught his eye. The black eyes bored into his, cold and lifeless like the yrch scattered around him.
The Silvan felt all the blood drain from his face. Before the fight, Elrond had warned him of the evil presence he had felt drawing near; something that was chasing Maer. Tamír reached for his bow, never looking away from the dark eldar.
The strange ellon drew his eyes away and without a moment of hesitation swung his sword at Estel.
The young human willed his hands to stop shaking as he looked into the merciless, black eyes of the elf. Behind him, he could hear Maer groan and immediately he was filled with resolve.
"You would attack and kill a wounded elfling who cannot even defend himself? That is the act of a monster. I will not let you do this. Hû úgan." Estel spat the last words out.
To his surprise, the elf looked away down the slope. The dean followed his gaze and saw a lone Silvan standing amid dozens of slain yrch; Tamír. Hope leaped in his heart.
Estel never saw the ellon's hand tighten around the hilt of this sword nor the pale hand that gripped his ankle.
Elvish Translations:
mellon – friend
adar – father
orch – orc
mear – golden
ada – dad
avaro naeth – do not worry
yrch – orcs
daro – halt
hû úgan – cowardly dog